Mrs Darcy
by Miss.Sly
Summary: Oneshot. If anyone ever found out that he loved Gone With The Wind, that he knew every line of Pride and Prejudice, that he knew every note of Grease, or every scene of The Breakfast Club… well…


Title: Mrs. Darcy  
Style: Oneshot  
Type: X-Men  
Category: Romance  
Timeline: In between X1 and X2  
Main Character(s): John Allerdyce (Pyro) and Bobby Drake (Iceman)  
Minor Character(s): Rogue, Kitty, Peter, Jubilee  
Warning: Swearing and Implied Slash. And WAFF.  
Word Count: 1180  
Written By: Miss Sly  
Disclaimer: I do not own the X-Men or any of the movies mentioned. I do, however, own my little plotline.

* * *

**Mr. Darcy**: How are you this evening, my dear?  
**Elizabeth Bennet**: Very well... although I wish you would not call me "my dear."  
**Mr.. Darcy**: [_chuckles_] Why?  
**Elizabeth Bennet**: Because it's what my father always calls my mother when he's cross about something.  
**Mr. Darcy**: What endearments am I allowed?  
**Elizabeth Bennet**: Well let me think..."Lizzie" for every day, "My Pearl" for Sundays, and..."Goddess Divine"... but only on *very* special occasions.  
**Mr. Darcy**: And... what should I call you when I am cross? Mrs. Darcy...?  
**Elizabeth Bennet**: No! No. You may only call me "Mrs. Darcy"... when you are completely, and perfectly, and incandescently happy.  
**Mr. Darcy**: [_he snickers_] Then how are you this evening... Mrs. Darcy?  
[_kisses her on the forehead_]  
**Mr. Darcy**: Mrs. Darcy...  
[_kisses her on the right cheek_]  
**Mr. Darcy**: Mrs. Darcy...  
[_kisses her on the nose_]  
**Mr. Darcy**: Mrs. Darcy...  
[_kisses her on the left cheek_]  
**Mr. Darcy**: Mrs. Darcy...  
[_finally kisses her on the mouth_]

* * *

St. John Allerdyce sighed contentedly as he sipped hot chocolate from his place on a large plush couch. In front of him loomed the giant TV in the common room of Xavier's Mansion. He curled his cold feel under him and leaned back on a soft downy pillow he had brought down with him from his and Bobby's room. Or rather, stolen from Bobby's bed.

The building around him was blissfully quiet. All the students and the teachers had left on some sort of field trip. He had lucked out, and had caught a slight head cold during a snowball fight. He was very glad to have a reason not to exit the warm building and venture out into the freezing, biting cold of outdoors. And he was incredibly happy to be alone.

For Pyro, being alone in the mansion meant only one thing – complete and utter control over the TV. More specifically, over the movies.

John never watched movies around Bobby or Rogue or Jubilee or Kitty or Peter. Or anyone else for that matter. He only ever watched them alone.

Not because he disliked watching movies with other people. In fact, reality was quite the opposite. He would love nothing more than to sit down with someone and watch a good marathon.

No, he watched movies alone simply because his favorite movies are far from what anyone would expect from him – the badass rebel of the X-Men.

If anyone ever found out that he loved Gone With The Wind, that he knew every line of Pride and Prejudice, that he knew every note of Grease, or every scene of The Breakfast Club… well… he wouldn't be able to find his reputation under a microscope.

John set his mug down on an end table, and snuggled unabashedly into a thick comforter – Bobby's now that he thought about it, he had stolen it from his bed along with the pillow. An unconscious, almost unnoticeable smile spread across his face as he took a deep breath of the Iceman's cool scent. He drew the blanket closer around him, and cast his attention back to his movie – Pride and Prejudice.

"No! No. You may only call me "Mrs. Darcy"... when you are completely, and perfectly, and incandescently happy."

John and Elizabeth spoke the words in perfect tandem.

A wide smile spread across Johns lips as he continued with Mr. Darcy's lines, "Then how are you this evening... Mrs. Darcy? Mrs. Darcy… Mrs. Darcy… Mrs. Darcy… Mrs. Darcy…"

John laughed softly as the end credits started to roll. He was quite sure this movie was turning him soft. He sat up and stretched, back arching, spine popping. He frowned at a crick in his lower spine, and twisted him back to the left, sighing once more when he heard a satisfying pop.

From the corner of his eye, he caught sight of blond hair. John blinked, and shifted his body so he could get a clearer view.

Bobby Drake, blond hair slightly windswept, blue eyes curiously bright, stood leaning against the door frame, legs and arms crossed. He looked as though he had been standing there for a while. A huge, amused grin twisted at the Iceman's lips.

John quickly felt his face color, and didn't even try to fight back his embarrassment. He looked away and pretended that he hadn't just been watching chick-flicks and loving every second of it. He squared his shoulders; attempting to ready himself for the onslaught of questions and accusations he knew was coming.

Bobby only laughed, a soft sound, and said jokingly, "What's next? Titanic?"

John relaxed, and scrunched up his nose, shaking his head. "Oh hell no. That movie fucking blows. Too much 'Jack, I'm flying'… I would have pitched her off the fucking boat. Especially with 'My Heart Will Go On' playing in the background. Don't even get me started on the whole, 'Paint Naked Pictures Of Me!' bullshit."

Bobby raised an eyebrow.

"The Notebook or The Breakfast club. I'm saving Dirty Dancing for last, and I've already watched Gone With The Wind and Grease. I just finished Pride and Prejudice."

Bobby laughed again, and padded over to the couch, looking down at the still-swaddled John. John looked up at him for a second and raised an eyebrow – daring him to say something.

"Are you going to move over so I can watch it with you?"

Pyro blushed lightly, taken off guard, and said, "Only if you put on the damn movie. I'm comfy."

"What movie?" Bobby asked as he took Pride and Prejudice from the player, settling it safely back into its case.

"If you're a bird, I'm a bird." John stated seriously.

Bobby looked at him and blinked, confused.

John rolled his eyes. "Just put on the fucking Notebook. We'll watch The Breakfast Club after."

Bobby couldn't help but laugh, and complied. He pushed the movie in, and padded back to the plush couch. In one swift motion, he picked up Johns blanket covered legs, and sat down. Gently, he laid Johns legs back down over his lap.

John became acutely aware of his thighs thrown over Bobby's lap, legs pressing against the Ice mutants stomach, his ass pressed against the side of his leg. He could feel the other boys' cool skin through their jeans.

"What inspired this chick-flick marathon?" Bobby asked his tone light and teasing.

John sniffed, and with as much dignity as he could muster said, "I happen to like these movies. Fuck off. Why are you here anyways?"

Bobby smiled and said, "I can tell. Man, I never would have guessed that you're such a girl. And, to answer you question, I came to check on you."

John shifted, once again aware that he was practically sitting on his best friends lap. This though alone caused a blush to rise and spread across the fire mutants cheeks. He mustered all the righteous anger he could and scowled at Bobby. "Just press the fucking play button."

Bobby grabbed the remote in his left hand, and Johns hand in his right. His blue eyes met John's own doe brown, and raised the other boys hand to his lips. A self assured grin, one stolen from it's usual place on John's lips, crossed Bobby's face as he brushed his lips against the back of Johns hand, murmuring, "Yes, Mrs. Darcy."

Johns cheeks turned bright red. Bobby hit play.

The opening credits rolled, and John smiled – truly smiled. He eyed Bobby, who had yet to let go of his hand, and looked back to the screen. He shifted so the blanket covered the pair of them and tightened his grip on the other boys hand, feeling a light pressure in return. Another happy sigh escaped his lips, matching the delighted sensation filling every vein, and he decided that maybe, just maybe, he didn't mind being girly every once in a while.

* * *

Date Written: 11/27/08

Feedback welcome. Constructive criticism is pure, unadulterated love.

Note, This was written on a prompt. The pairing was Bobby / Pyro, and the prompts were Movies and Girly.

Love,

Sly.


End file.
